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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642593">parchment</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypherr/pseuds/Cypherr'>Cypherr</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hollow [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:21:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypherr/pseuds/Cypherr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dear Philza, From Dream</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hollow [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958773</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>735</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>parchment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Apologies for any mistakes I wrote this one on my phone <br/>I have not slept in over 24 hours <br/>It's also really short because it's literally just a fuckin letter but yeah Phil pog</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> <strike><em>Dear Mr. Minecraft,</em></strike></p><p> Okay, yeah, no. That was awful.</p><p> <strike><em>Dear Phil,</em></strike></p><p> That didn't feel quite right either. It was too casual.</p><p> <strike><em>Dear Mr. Phil,</em></strike></p><p> No, now he sounded like Tubbo. Fuck, he was going to run out of ink and paper at this rate and he hadn't even figured out the damn beginning.</p><p> <em>Dear Philza,</em></p><p> Yeah, that would have to do.</p><p> <em>I hope this letter finds you well, for this message is not an act of kindness, but a call for aid. I know you have stated in the past that you would like to not be involved in the events of my server, but your sons desperately need your help. I am unaware of the full story, for Techno won't speak of it and Tommy is <strike>too fucking traumatized </strike></em></p><p> No, that's too on the nose. There's not enough context for him to understand.</p><p> <strike><em>Too out of it</em></strike></p><p>   No, no, fuck. Not good enough. Too trivial.</p><p> <em>Not in the right state of mind to disclose any information.</em></p><p> Yeah, yeah. He could work with that.</p><p> <em>I would not be contacting you if that was all, for, as loathe as I am to admit it, the behavior is not entirely unusual for the pair. The issue at hand concerns your third son, Wilbur.</em></p><p>
  <em> We do not understand what occurred foe him to undergo such a dramatic, radical change, but Wilbur is no longer the same man. He alone is the reason for Technoblade and Tommy's current source of suffering.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tommy will only let Techno touch him or even come near him, now. The boy is constantly on the verge of a panic attack, even in seemingly safe situations.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Techno is so focus on taking care of Tommy that he refuses to acknowledge his own trauma, and even I can see that it's tearing him apart.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>  I will continue to support them, but I am only one man.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> We do not know Wilbur's whereabouts or what he could be planning and as it stands, I'm not sure if that's for better or for worse.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Neither Tommy nor Techno are aware I am writing this letter, either, for I know that they would rather not get you involved, but I am a desperate man. I ask you, beg of you if I must, to answer this plead with your arrival.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can not explain more, as I am unsure if my parrot will intercepted, but if, and hopefully when, you arrive, I will explain the full scope of the situation to the best of my abilities.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> My last hope resides with you,</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dream</em>
</p><p>It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. He carefully folded the parchment, tucking it neatly into a prepared envelope. Pouring the green, heated wax down on the envelope's edge, he stamped it with his signature smiley face seal.</p><p> His messenger parrot- a vividly green bird with a tuft of white feathers on her face- waited patiently on his windowsill. He tied the letter to her awaiting leg, sending her off into the server hub, on her way to Phil. He hoped he would arrive. Techno and Tommy's sanity depended on it. He could not do this alone.</p><p> He could hear their even breaths from where he was sat at his desk. The fire light had gone dim, shadows deep and menacing as they danced along to the crackling melody the burning logs produced. He passed by the couch the two brothers were on, instead adding another few logs to the fire, watching as it began to return to its previous roaring warmth.</p><p> A glance behind him revealed a sweet sight. Tommy was curled into Techno's side- as he so often was these days- with the hybrid's arms wrapped around him. The blonde's cheek was smuched against his brother's chest, a small trail of drool stuck on his chin from his slightly ajar mouth. He looked peaceful- a rare sight. Techno was in a similar state if tranquility, leaned back into the welcoming cushions of the sofa, body relaxed and finally not tense and on guard. His hair was free of its usual braid, pink flowing over the back of the couch and his shoulders. His arms around Tommy were also keeping his red velvet cape around the boy, who seemed to snuggle into the familar article. It was as heartwarming as it was heartbreaking, knowing the circumstances behind it. He can only hope that, should Phil arrive, he gets here <em>soon.</em></p>
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